Throughout Time
by Nebraskafan
Summary: Even the closest of friends can grow indifferent. Yet, when they do, it can cause misunderstandings that may be irreversible in the time of war.


**Throughout Time**

_**Disclaimer**_**: I do not own any of the characters or places that are associated with "The Lord of the Rings". They all belong to J.R.R Tolkien.**

**-1- : I give all praise of the idea of Aragorn calling Legolas his Strongbow to the wonderful and talented ****Legolass Q****, which she does in one of her stories. I take NO credit for it - the brilliant idea is all hers.****  
****-2- : The same for 1 applies to the snippet of when Legolas and Aragorn are here talking about Legolas "pulling Aragorn over a cliff into freezing water so he would be more presentable for King Thranduil because he smelled and appeared as a doormat". The event happened and was created once again by ****Legolass Q****in the same one of her stories as the one above - "For the Love of the Lord of the White Tree". I take no credit for either of these references!**

****_**A/N's:**_*** This is an altered situation of the scenes of Helm's Deep.**

*** I honestly don't know why, but for some odd reason I've always been fascinated with the scene in "The Two Towers" where Legolas and Aragorn have their argument in the armory of Helm's Deep. It was an interesting thing for Jackson to put in; Legolas' uncharacteristic despair over the war. But I loved it. I just wish they had had more time to enunciate on it; get more elaborate on how much confusion and hurt such a simple statement could cause. "Then I shall die as one of them!" Now am I the only one that flinched when Aragorn shouted this at our poor Elf? ;-)**

*** One change that I'd like to note beforehand; I know that in the movie Rohan celebrates back at the Golden Hall, but it worked better for me to keep them in Helm's Deep.**

_**Summary: Even the closest of friends can grow indifferent. Yet, when they do, it can cause misunderstandings that may be irreversible in the time of war.**_

~.~.~

_When clouds veil sun,  
and disaster comes.  
When waters rise,  
and hope takes flight..._

All waited anxiously for their captain to wake. Aragorn's flesh wounds - mainly the gash on his shoulder from his fall off of the cliff in the Warg battle - had become infected, thus he lingered in a fevered sleep. As soon as he had arrived at Helm's Deep, weary, bedraggled, but _alive_, he had thrown himself into warning King Theoden of the army of Uruk-Hai that were marching to unleash fierce war on Rohan's people. Aragorn had always been known to put all others before himself. But, unfortunately, the Man was wearier than he thought, and his body had finally failed in the midst of hastened planning with Theoden.

He'd nearly toppled over onto the stone table. Legolas was the first one there, of course, and the Elf caught Aragorn in his strong grasp, mentally chiding his unconscious friend for 'once more pushing himself to the limit' as he hurried to the healers. The worry in the Prince's midnight eyes increased with every fevered murmur the delirious Ranger whispered against his arm.

The ladies in Helm's Deep had done all that they could, and everyone was reassured that the Man would live, yet at times it did not look it to Legolas as he remained at his friend's side through several long hours. The Elf repeatedly sponged Aragorn's body with cool water to try to bring down the fever, and slowly it seemed to begin to take effect. The Man's delirious cries lessened in volume 'til he merely slept. His body began to repair itself, and Legolas watched as more color returned to his face with every past minute, and the hand that he held lessened in heat. He would be all right.

Dusk was brushing the tops of the Hornburg when at last Aragorn woke. The other in the room with him did not notice when the Man's eyes fluttered open, for he was turned away, standing by the window. Grimly pleased to note that the only pain he felt was soreness in his ribs and a dull headache, Aragorn swallowed and gingerly pushed his elbows into the bed, rising himself as carefully as he could.

The sound of his movement alerted the Elf to the Ranger's consciousness and Legolas turned swiftly, his eyes widening when they met the clear, silver gaze of his friend. "You are awake," the Prince murmured, striding forward and seating himself on the edge of the bed.

Aragorn gave him a faint grin. "It seems to be that I am," he retorted, pulling himself up until he was fully upright. Legolas watched him carefully but remained silent. After a moment, Aragorn met his gaze again, and his own was filled with sudden fear. "Legolas, how long have I slept?"

"For four hours," the Elf replied quietly and the Ranger tensed, his eyes widening. "Peace, my friend, King Theoden has been readying the Men. Most of them are already in the armory."

"I must go." Aragorn clenched his teeth and swung his legs over the side of the bed, taking a deep breath before pushing himself to his feet. For a moment he swayed and Legolas had to restrain himself from instinctively wrapping the Man in his arms to keep him from falling. Yet the moment passed, and Aragorn gave his comrade in arms a brief nod, retrieved his sword and dagger from the chair beside the bed, and strode from the room.

Left alone, Legolas sighed and dropped his eyes sadly.

~.~.~

"Lord Legolas!"

Halting at the call of his name, Legolas turned and nodded to King Theoden as the Man approached him, a grim frown marring the King's face. "I heard Lord Aragorn has awoken. I have not yet seen him. Is he capable to fight?"

The Elf tensed at the question, a doused war rising once more in his heart. Sighing, he continued his stride towards the armory, motioning for the King to follow. "I have not enough knowledge in the skill of healing to tell you the right," the Prince replied quietly. "He is not well; this I know. He tells me that he fares fine, yet I know also that he tells not full truth, for he merely wishes to console me, and ease my fear for him."

For a moment something flickered in Legolas' eyes, and, despite himself, Theoden gazed in wonder upon it, for he had no knowledge of the friendship between the Elf and Mortal Man. "And I do fear for him. Since the day we met I have known that Aragorn would rather defend another's life than protect his own, and he excepts naught help from any other." He paused, casting his eyes down and adding thoughtfully, "Even those who love him. He no longer speaks with us save in war. And he confides in us little, or he confides in us not at all."

Abruptly realizing that the King was gazing at him worriedly, Legolas shook his head and straightened, clearing his throat. "Yet those troubles are far behind us, and though Aragorn has not confirmed his decision to me himself, I believe that he shall fight. He is in the armory, helping the soldiers to prepare."

In his mind Legolas silently added, _'To prepare for the night that they shall all die.'_

~.~.~

"Aragorn, nedin dagor hen ú-'erir ortheri." Legolas' despair had risen and he spoke from it, his fair brow creased and his eyes blazing as he spoke to his startled, confused friend. It was too much for the suddenly weary Elf; and Aragorn's near death and collapse had triggered an unknown terror in Legolas' heart, once more darkening his spirit with the realization that his friend was very much Mortal. And this was very much a Mortal war. "Natha daged dhaer!"

"Then I shall die as one of them!" Aragorn retorted angrily. The Men gathered in the armory all stared at them in surprise, having understood only the Common Speech; and the room fell silent.

There was anger in the Man's eyes, Legolas noted. _Anger_. At what point in time had he lost his friend's understanding? And suddenly, knowing that he had lost it, Legolas felt his own ire rise as he stared back, fists clenched at his sides. "You say this now, yet you find offense in me speaking of _their_doom?" he seethed and Aragorn glared at him. "Why do you think it fine for you to flounce your wish to die, Man? Is it because I am immortal? I should not care. Correct? And you do not care that I shall grieve, do you? For I shall live, whilst the rest of you perish, and continue in my duty. Do you wish for me to also bear the guilt of living when you do not? If that is what you want, then you have but to tell me, my lord."

The last was spoken bitterly, and despite the fury that spread across his features, Aragorn felt his heart clench in shock at his friend's abhorrence. Yet he hid it well. "I do not care what you _bear_, Prince Legolas," he said coldly, and when he spoke, his silver eyes were hard as ice. "Bear whatever is your wish. But I feel no guilt that you shall live while we shall die. If you wish to shame your kin by cursing their immortality, do so. But I _will_ die as one of these Men. I wish you the best of luck with your blades, _friend_."

The title was spat, not said, and Legolas did not think anything had ever hurt as much as it did then. The sudden raw resentment in the Man's voice shocked him. "You are not the same, Aragorn." The reply was hard, bitter. Aragorn clenched his jaw. "Never would I have imagined you were capable of being so heartless."

"You believe _me_to be heartless?" the Man demanded, a fire igniting in his eyes. "You are bold enough to slander these innocent Men with telling them that they are all going to die, and yet you point accusations at me. I know not if it is your pride or your arrogance!"

"Do not speak of pride nor arrogance to me, Mortal," Legolas hissed. "You have become so calloused that you do not allow yourself to console those who have stood with you your entire life."

That brought Aragorn up short, and - just barely - his eyes widened and a spark of compassion glinted in their depths. "I am a soldier, Legolas. I-"

"I know this. Yet I did not know that your duty meant more to your heart than those you love."

"It does not!" His voice rose again. Perhaps... perhaps it was from guilt. "You would not know, even if it was true. But it is not."

"It is so," the Elf murmured, and this time his tone was laced with sorrow, and he dropped his gaze. "And why shouldn't I know? I was once your companion, not just your comrade. There was a time when I knew your heart as surely as I know my own. But not now, Aragorn. Now I do not even know who you are."

Looking up, Legolas met his eyes once more and watched all traces of anger leave the Man's own. It was replaced with self-condemnation, and Aragorn hesitated only briefly before turning and striding through the stunned Men. And because he did, he did not see the agony that filled the Elf Prince's eyes, before Legolas whirled and disappeared in the opposite direction.

Mouth still agape, Gimli stood where he had been left. He was at a complete and utter loss. "What in _Balin's_name...?"

~.~.~

Rain.

The Valar had consented _rain_. And the enemy was approaching.

Quickly.

Legolas kept his temporary stance at ease and held his bow against his shoulder as he peered through the merciless downpour from the black sky, watching the dim torches of the Uruk-Hai draw ever closer. The fortress that the Elf stood upon; Helm's Deep; was crowded with readied soldiers, yet the group of men and mere boys was an ill sight. It was a handful of 300 Men against 10,000 bloodthirsty Uruk-Hai, and all of them clearly shivered with the intruding fear of what was to come, despite their brave facade. Even the group of Elves that had come to their aid by Lord Elrond's word knew that this war would be folly.

Several yards away on the wall, Aragorn halted his pace and turned to face the marching enemy. There was grim defiance written in every line of his noble face, and yet as his silver eyes scanned the crowd of soldiers around him, he drew in a deep breath as sorrow once more threatened to creep into his heart. Most of these Men would not return to their wives and children. At the eve of last month, Rohan had been quiet, and its people had believed that all was well with the world.

They had to realize that it was not so the hard way.

Sighing, Aragorn glanced to his left and, by chaste chance, his gaze met Legolas'. The Elf Prince started and the Ranger drew in a sharp breath, turning away swiftly and leaning against the wall. Legolas gazed at his slumped shoulders for a moment before he, too, dropped his eyes.

"Why not just talk to him, laddie?" Gimli asked as he glanced up at the slender Elf who stood beside him, and Legolas shook his head sadly, his expression turned wryly distant.

"There is not time for that now, Gimli," he murmured, gazing out over the surging black mass that approached. "It matters not over much." Neither of them believed his words. "There are more important matters at hand than mine and Lord Aragorn's... confrontation. I must set my mind on what is most pressing."

Although he was not pleased by the answer, Gimli gave a soft grunt and turned his burly gaze back to the wall in front of him. Suddenly, to the left of where they stood, on elderly Man's grip on his bowstring wavered from the rain. The arrow flew into one of the nearest Orcs' neck and sent it sprawling to the ground in front of their comrades.

Aragorn turned in shock and raised a hand. "Hold!" he shouted, yet instantly knew that it was too late. Cursing through his teeth the Man pushed away from the wall and began to rally the archers. The time that they had so preciously depended on buying was lost. For finally, after the rest of the Uruk-Hai army recovered from their incomprehension, each and every one of them began to snarl and roar, raising their weapons.

And then they charged.

It had not become a quarter hour into battle when the army of Saruman hoisted great steel ladders to the bridge of the wall and thus were able to breech Helm's Deep, beating the Rohirrim soldiers back with slaughter. Hundreds of Men and Orcs were felled steadily and the party of Elves was left leaderless when Haldir, their leader, fell, killed by a broadsword.

Aragorn flung his sodden hair from his face as he fiercely stood over his elven friend's body, using all of the strength he possessed to slay any creature that came in range of his deadly blows. Filled with adrenaline, the Man finally swung his blade in a wide arch to free himself from his press and leapt over a pile of bodies, landing on his shoulder and rolling back to his feet.

As Aragorn turned to gather a band of Elves to him, he caught sight of an odd passage that the army of Orcs had created near the bottom of the Deeping wall. Their intent penetrated his mind after a moment, and when it did he froze, his heart stopping in his chest. One of the Uruk-Hai clad in layers of metal was making his way steadily through his comrades towards the bared opening under the drawbridge. A lighted torch was in his hand, and Aragorn watched in horror as two other creatures deposited their devices in the gap. He knew instantly what it was for.

It was fire to undo stone.

Terrified into a stupor of fear, Aragorn screamed the first name that came to his mind. "Legolas!"

On the opposite side of the wall, Legolas had barely managed to slay several towering creatures at once when he heard his name shouted. The Prince looked up sharply at the call and his eyes immediately found the one who had uttered it. "Aragorn." The name was unbidden on his lips and he pitched forward, shoving his way through fighting soldiers, his gaze locked on his friend across the havoc of war. He halted, however, and his brow furrowed in confusion when Aragorn frantically shook his head, screaming at him to halt. At first Legolas was incredulous and ignored him. Yet when he finally followed the direction of his friend's gestures, his eyes widened and his heart leapt into his throat.

"Shoot him! _Shoot him_!" Aragorn screamed and Legolas lurched towards the wall, fluidly bringing an arrow to his bow and sighting in on the torch carrier. The projectile pierced the Orc's collar. But the Uruk continued to run - to the panic of them both. Legolas' hands shook as he shot again, watching the arrow sail and embed itself opposite the first.

And still the beast strode on. Just as the desperate Prince had readied again, the Uruk-Hai reached his prize, and Aragorn's breath stopped when the beast triumphantly threw himself into the hole.

Legolas' scream was muffled by the roar of the explosion that followed.

Everyone that was not on the drawbridge side of the wall watched in horror as the shattered segments of stone fell back into the armies mass, accompanied by the bodies of their companions that were flung into the air by the fierce bout of fire. The trick of Saruman opened a gap in the fortress and as the thick smoke began to settle the enemy surged forward, breeching their inner fields. They were met there by remaining soldiers, yet most of the Men and Elves at the bidding of King Theoden began to retreat to the Keep, running in large hordes up the winding tunnels to the great door.

In the chaotic midst, Gimli found Legolas and hooked his fingers in the frozen Elf's sleeve, dragging him alongside. Legolas had not the strength to struggle, and just before the heavy door was shut behind him he called out, his cry swallowed by the roars of the Uruk-Hai. "_Aragorn_!"

~.~.~

Everything after that was a daze of panic. King Theoden was frantically ordering his men to barricade the door as the Orcs pounded against it with their wooden pillar, shaking the fortress. The loud cracks were echoed by the muffled cries of the children, huddled in the midst of the women in the far corner of the cave.

Gimli held his axe close to his side so as not to clip any of the shoulders that he made his way through, seeking out his companion. One of the Men he passed appeared as if in a daze of shock, his wide eyes focused on the door that led to the destroyed portion of the deepening wall.

"Sorry about your son, Marin," another Rohirrim murmured to him as he fell into step beside the Man and clapped his shoulder. "He was a brave boy, fighting out there like that. You should be proud."

Sighing, Gimli continued to clump towards a rack of broadswords and grunted when - as he had expected - he caught sight of Legolas, slumped against the shadow of the wall. "The King requires your assistance, pointy-ears," the Dwarf informed him. The Prince raised his dark gaze in response, and when Gimli saw the pain and remorse shining in his friend's eyes, he softened his tone. "There was nothing you could have done to save him, laddie. Aragorn knew the risks. He didn't go down without honor - and he definitely did not fall blaming you."

Legolas flinched at the mere word. _'Fall'. _"I should have _saved_him, Gimli." His voice was incredibly soft, laced with pain, bewilderment. He was still in shock. "I could have. If I had but sighted better..."

"You hit the foul creature in his neck!" the Dwarf retorted, throwing up an exasperated gloved hand and fixing his friend with a stern glare. "I saw it. You shot him perfectly: Twice. There was nothing that could have brought him down. So you must stop this, Elf. You must not blame yourself. Come with me. The war's not over quite yet, lad."

Without answer, Prince Legolas raised his head and drew himself erect, squaring his shoulders as if in a shield against his agony. As he followed his stout friend back across the Keep, his fair face fell back into a mask of determination.

~.~.~

The King refused to let his men give up hope. He took up his own broadsword and waved it vigorously in the air as he shouted orders to his weary Men: "Barricade the entrance! Bring those tables; continue to lift them higher! Fear no evil! Men at front, women and children to the back of the cave!"

"King Theoden, Gamling wished for me to inform you that we are growing short in beams high enough to shield the door," Gimli announced as he and Legolas stopped beside the Man, and Theoden rubbed his eyes tiredly.

"All right, we will simply have to keep our arms at the ready." He sighed, turning to scan the crowds of Men that were at work in the Keep room, hustling to and fro. A frown crept to the King's face. "Where is Lord Aragorn?"

Gimli, if not for the seriousness of the situation, would most likely have groaned; knowing - and dreading - the response to the Man's innocent question. Thus he dared a furtive glance at his elven friend. Legolas' fair face had drained of all color and his midnight eyes sparkled with obvious agony, his wide gaze fixed almost numbly on Theoden.

Noticing it, the King looked at him in concern. "Is something the matter, Master Elf?" Theoden hesitantly asked.

For a moment Legolas was unable to find his voice, but when he did, it was quiet. "No, my lord. I am merely... fearful of the battle."

"Lad," Gimli warned softly and the Prince shot him a scalding glance.

"I am _fine_, Gimli," he retorted, not missing the surprised look Theoden shared with his dwarven friend. "I have not lost my hope that this war will be won." His words were brave, but he bowed his head, and without thought or reason King Theoden reached out a hand and placed it on the Elf's trembling shoulder.

"What is wrong?" All of them turned at the alarmed question. The King gave the approaching Man a smile of greeting, Gimli gaped at him for half a second before bursting into an incredulous laugh, and Legolas remained stock still, staring at him in shock.

Aragorn's hair hung damp around his worried face and his garments were soaked from the outside rain as he made his way towards them, a small grimace at the corner of his lips as he held his aching side. When he reached them, he gave a nod to Theoden, though his silver eyes quickly turned to Legolas in concern. "Are you all right?" he asked. He had seen the King's obvious comforting of his friend and was anxious to know what ailed the Elf Prince, yet before Legolas could answer Gimli pushed him aside and gifted the Ranger with a burly embrace.

"I swear that you are made of luck! How you survive these things I shall never know," the Dwarf rumbled in warm laughter and Aragorn smiled tiredly. "You are prone to seem dead, and then appear once more mere moments later!"

"Were you on the wall?" Theoden asked in surprise and the other Man nodded when Gimli stepped back.

"I do not think many others survived," Aragorn remarked quietly as the King looked him over, concern marring his brow. "I barely fought my way past the throng of Orcs in time so that they would let me in."

"I do not think it wise for you to be on your feet, then," Theoden said, taking note of the way Aragorn protectively cradled the ribs on his left side. "Come, I shall see that one of the women tend to you."

"Nay," the Man immediately protested, shaking his head and glancing at the soldiers gathered at the door. "I must aid them. I am fine, my lord."

"You are _not_." All three of them started in surprise when the exclamation of denial flew from Legolas' lips before he could stop it. Inhaling sharply, the Prince closed his eyes and lowered his face before speaking again, voice softened significantly. "You are not _fine_, Aragorn. Go. Let them tend to you. The Men have their king." He met the Man's gaze then and saw the shock swirling in the silver orbs. "Please."

"Mayhap you would assist me?" Aragorn asked quietly. Legolas was no small amount surprised at the request in return. "I don't know yet the full extent of my condition. I may have need of a companion."

Gimli spoke up when the Elf hesitated for a brief moment. "Go, pointy-ears, we will call if something is amiss here. The lad needs you more."

King Theoden nodded with a small smile at Legolas' glance, so the Prince moved forward and carefully draped Aragorn's right arm around his shoulders with his own, winding his left around the Ranger's waist, ever careful of his friend's wounded side. The two warriors took leave then of the dwarf and King and made their way through a stone leave-way towards a chamber in the cave. The soft footfalls of the Elf and the slightly heavier footfalls of his companion were the only sounds heard for a while as the sounds of the Rohirrim faded and were muffled.

After several moments of silence, Aragorn spoke, his voice soft. "Thank you for aiding me, my friend."

"Your friend? I thought when you had called me that in the armory it was meant in sarcasm." Legolas' reply was not bitter, but quiet with hurt; and it brought the Man to an abrupt halt, therefore stilling him as well.

"I did not mean what I said, Legolas," Aragorn said urgently, using his arm around the Prince's shoulders to turn his friend to face himself. Legolas kept his eyes downcast. "Any of it. I was frightened, and blinded by the hopelessness of the battle. I do not know what came over me."

"I do," the Elf murmured, "and I fault you not for it. The fault is mine. I selfishly despaired and doubted your ability to captain."

"You did not selfishly despair," Aragorn replied quietly.

"Yes, I did."

"No, Legolas," The Man reached forward and tilted the Prince's chin up so he could meet his eyes, and his own were gentle. "You did not. You despaired. Not for yourself, but for these innocent Men. You despaired for their loss of life. There is no wrong in that."

"You cannot despair and be not wrong," Legolas whispered. "And I despaired, and I hurt you with my childish words and shamed my people. I am sorry," his voice quieted further and he dropped his gaze again. "Forgive me."

"No." When Aragorn replied in firm the Elf looked up sharply, not able to help his surprise at his apology being rejected. But the Man's eyes were full of remorse. "No, Legolas, I will not forgive you, for there is nothing to forgive. I need _you_ to forgive _me_."

Legolas was at a loss, and his mouth was slightly agape, incomprehension on his fair face. "For _what_?"

"For forgetting that those who I love are far more important than any standards I make with Men I do not know," Aragorn replied softly. "I hurt you with harsh words because my pride was stung, and... and because I knew that you were right."

"I was not right," the Elf protested.

"You _were_right, Legolas. I am the most arrogant man I know. You were simply the one to point it out to me." Aragorn gave a gentle smile, yet his eyes were still shadowed with regret. "I have become so war-hardened, so heartless, that I do not worry about the feelings of others as much as I should. For since this Quest began I have never given you the satisfaction of knowing that I appreciate that you have stood beside me this long. After all of the mistakes I have made, and how many cold shoulders you have been given... You still remain so loyal. You're always right at my back. And I wounded you with some of the most heartless words that could have been spoken. I fear that one day-"

"Let me speak," Legolas interrupted softly, and when Aragorn fell silent, the Elf studied his gaze for several moments before beginning. "You are not heartless, for I know that you still feel. Yes, you _are_ war-hardened; but so are we all. Sometimes, as warriors, we cannot always ponder our love towards our companions, for there are lives at stake that we must constantly protect. But the things that are precious to you - to me - can never be forgotten or lost. I think, though, that there is something that both of us _did_forget."

Grasping the Man's shoulders, and to the utter shock of his friend, Legolas leaned forward and rested his forehead lightly on the Ranger's own, voice softening, "We must protect the innocent people we do not know, yet we must also protect each other. And I say this not in a manner of blades, mellon nin. For so many years have I known you, and cherished you, since the day I beheld you as a babe. Though you may change, and my responsibilities may change - that will not. It is simply different. I must learn to accept that I cannot always be the arms to shelter you. We are brothers in arms, Aragorn. But we shall still, no matter what, be friends. We just seem to forget it sometimes," he added with a wry smile.

Aragorn smiled tearfully, reaching up to wrap his hands around Legolas' forearms. "We made many promises to each other before the Ring was discovered," the Ranger whispered. "And one was that we would never let the shadows of our duty destroy how close we were. Forgive me for doing so, for I have done so now."

"I have as well," Legolas murmured, squeezing the Man's shoulders. "We were both in the wrong. Yet I remind you now, and this time I hope neither you nor I forget it: You are my dearest friend, Aragorn, and I shall always stand beside you no matter the direness of the situation, and my heart shall never turn from yours."

Aragorn's face shone at the warm words of his friend, and he embraced him. "And you, Legolas, are my _Cuthalion _," he whispered in his ear, and Legolas smiled broadly against his friend's shoulder. "My Strongbow, and I will not lose sight of that again. Le hannon, mellon nin."

~.~.~

It was over.

It was finally over.

And the Rohirrim did nothing but annunciate that as they cast their battle stained weapons to the ground and threw their arms into the air, those on feet dancing round with joy and those on horseback sliding from the saddles to join. Cries of victory rang across the sky and over all of Helm's Deep, the previous scene of massacre being overridden by the relief of driving away the enemy.

The Orcs had fled soon after the arrival of Gandalf the White with hundreds more Rohirrim soldiers, and the black creatures disappeared into Fangorn Forest, only to be disposed of there. Now the two day war was finally over and it seemed that the peasants and soldiers of Rohan had never been more relieved to have it that way. They were free in victory.

As the streets were flooded with rejoicing women and children to join their Men, Aragorn mounted the stairs to the Keep to join King Theoden. The battle-worn Ranger's face was dirtied, and there were yet the faint traces of pain that what he thought his _irritating_wound was causing him, but it was also graced with a tired smile as he surveyed the surging mass of Rohirrim and stood for a moment quietly to the left of the Royal Guard. Theoden was engaged in joyful conversation with Eowyn and Eomer, and thus Aragorn could simply revel in the relief of victory.

It had been a terrifying fight for him. The Man could not remember a night where he had been so close to giving up hope of seeing the light of dawn, despite his determination in leading the Men of Rohan to a glorious end. At times he had feared that his own body would not last, and he would fall needlessly with the Men before him. But their redeemer had arrived, and they had made it, and it was all right. Even if death had been tangible, if fear had been so close, they had won the war.

Surprisingly, Aragorn felt tears in his eyes and he took a deep breath when Legolas came suddenly into his view, striding through the crowd with a laughing Gimli at his side. The Prince caught his eyes and the Man felt a smile pull at his lips when Legolas' face brightened with an obvious light of joy. They were both overwhelmed with relief of being alive, beholding the other for the first time since the fight had ended. And, in the midst of all the people, Legolas did something that Aragorn; to the day of his death; swore was simply a figment of his imagination.

The lithe Elf lurched forward, murmuring an absentminded "Excuse me, sir" to an elderly Man that blocked his desired path to the Keep steps. The soldier stepped away, clearing it, and Legolas sprinted up them with a fire in his limbs that Aragorn easily noticed, and regarded for a split moment with confusion.

But for just a _split_moment.

Because, suddenly, the Man found himself knocked back at least a yard in a huff of surprise, shifting under the weight of another form that slammed against him. It was Legolas, of course, and by the time Aragorn had managed to steady his feet by gripping the back of his friend's shoulders and bring his eyes up to meet sparkling blue orbs, Legolas was already laughing. "You are all right," the Prince whispered, voice pulsing with joy and relief. "You are alive."

"Aye, mellon nin, of course I am," Aragorn murmured in return, smiling softly. "The fact that you could not always be clucking over my shoulder in your mother hen ways for every second of the battle does not render me no longer invincible. I handled my sword quite well."

Legolas pulled him forward sharply, wrapping his arms around the Man's shoulders and crushing his friend against his chest. Aragorn attempted to tense his body as the slight twinge of pain that the contact caused lanced through his chest. "I could not know while the night lasted, Mortal, so let me have my moment of relief," the Elf growled playfully. "I can never know if you are all right - you always run off!"

Rolling his eyes, Aragorn could not stop himself from remaining tense in the fond grasp nonetheless. "Yes, well, I am a grown man now, my friend," he teased tightly.

Legolas suddenly noticed the oddness of his friend's actions, and he grew slightly confused at that. "Aragorn?" The Prince pulled away slightly, "Are you all right?"

"I'm fine," the Man murmured, forcing a pained grin to spread along his lips.

Legolas' heart tightened and his brow creased with concern when he noticed the slight paleness of his friend's face. "You are not _fine_, Aragorn," the Elf remarked worriedly. "What is wrong? Were you wounded?"

Unfortunately, a loud ringing decided to assault Aragorn's ears at that moment and, before he could utter his dismissive retort, the Valar chose just that moment to take his consciences, and his chest tightened, and then his mind knew no more. Legolas' tone rose in pitch when the Ranger's legs gave way. The Elf tightened his grip on the now limp Man, alarm replacing his previous relief. "Aragorn!" he cried, "Aragorn, can you hear me?"

King Theoden and his guard turned in surprise, alerted by the usually composed Elf's shout. As soon as the King's eyes fell on the unconscious captain, he sprinted down the stone steps, calling, "Fetch our most skilled healers; take them to the armory!"

Eowyn was right on his heels, her face white as she added firmly, "Someone find Gandalf!"

"Legolas," Theoden said a bit more calmly once he reached them, placing a soothing hand on the Elf's shoulder and reaching out to put an arm around Aragorn's frame to pull him away, "what happened? We need-"

"No!" Legolas' eyes were dark with fear.

"It is to help him," the King said consolingly. "We will not harm him; we will take him to the healers so that he may be healed."

The soft but firm words broke through Legolas' un-characteristic-like horror and he pressed his trembling lips together. His gaze lighted once more on Aragorn's face and, slowly recovering from his shock, he nodded, saying as firmly as he could, "He fell unconscious without a moment's warning. I saw no visible wounds; I know not what happened!"

"Go; find Gandalf yourself," Theoden said to Eowyn as he led the Elf up the Keep stairs. Nodding, with one last fearful glance at Aragorn, the maiden turned with a fire in her step to do as she was bid. Legolas refused to hand Aragorn's form over to any of the Rohirrim, and he ignored the slight strain on his arms as he pulled his friend farther up into his grasp, instead focusing on making his way into the fortress as quickly as possible.

"Worry not, Lord Legolas," Theoden murmured when he noticed the worried paleness of the Elf Prince's face. "It may be mere exhaustion. Gandalf will know."

~.~.~

"This is, by far, the best celebration I have ever attended in my life!" Gimli boomed as he slammed his empty mug on the counter and reached for yet another.

"That is very unlikely," Aragorn, who sat beside the Dwarf, murmured to him with a small smile.

Gimli turned a glance on his friend. "And why is that?"

"You are far too old to have attended so few, and far too prideful of your own people to choose one of Men as your favorite, my good friend, and the one which is most likely your _true_ best was probably filled with airy Dwarf maidens," Aragorn stated teasingly, patting the Dwarf's cloaked shoulder before pushing himself to his feet and moving away from the group of now laughing Men surrounding his friend. Aragorn could tell by Gimli's red face that the Dwarf was indeed very angry, and had to quickly side-step to avoid being slammed with a heavy glass that was hurled at him from behind.

"I care not if you have a few cracked ribs, Ranger!" Gimli roared, "I will brain you for that tease!"

"Well then, my friend, you must work on your aim!" Aragorn called back over his shoulder, chuckling to himself as he excused himself around a conversing pair of Rohirrim.

"Tell it to the Elf!" Gimli shouted over the roar of boisterous noise. "Legolas himself has tipped me on aim, and I am sure he won't be happy with your disapproval! Besides, he still hasn't forgiven you either for giving him such a scare!"

Rolling his eyes, Aragorn glanced around the tavern until he caught sight of Gandalf near a far table, conversing merrily with Eomer. Striding to join them, the Man nodded his greeting when Gandalf reached forward and clapped his shoulder, the merriness in his eyes quickly joined with slight concern. "How are you, my young friend?" the Wizard asked.

"It has been two days, Gandalf, I am fine," Aragorn placated with a smile. "I can recover easily from mere exhaustion."

"Yes, and also one rib broken and two cracked," Gandalf countered, though his approving grin dulled the sharpness of his reprimand. "I am glad that's _all_ it was."

"I as well." Glancing once more around the tavern, the Man added inquiringly, "Have either of you seen Legolas?"

Eomer shook his head, yet Gandalf smiled, his eyes twinkling. "Actually, Master Legolas made a request of me," the Wizard chuckled. "He asked me to tell you to join him outside."

Aragorn looked surprised. "Why is he outside? Does he not know that it is raining?"

"It seems to be that he does not mind that very much. In fact, our Elf friend seemed to be _dancing_ when I left him to return here."

"Indeed," the Ranger retorted fondly, smiling and thanking Gandalf before excusing himself and dispersing silently from the tavern. As Aragorn walked the halls of the stone haven, he marveled at how vast and looming it seemed when it was silent, with no living thing abroad in its corridors. In moments he had reached the doors of the Keep and when he pulled them open the sweet sound and smell of rain washed over him immediately. Aragorn peered through the downpour until he caught sight of a dim form perched upon the ledge of the deepening wall.

Hardly noticing the rain that soaked his garments, the Man passed from the fortress and made his way across the courtyard, a smile touching his lips as he felt the gentle water cleanse him of memories of grime and blood. Despite himself, he raised his arms and tilted his face back for a moment. When he reached his friend, there was a content joy on his chiseled features. "Now I understand why you are so happy in the rain," Aragorn murmured as he eased himself down to sit beside the Elf, who turned to him, a smile brightening his countenance. "It feels so cleansing."

"It does," Legolas agreed softly, and for a moment his blue gaze darkened with worry. "How fares you, Estel?"

Aragorn smiled at him. "I am fine, Legolas. Remember; it was mere exhaustion." Holding up his hand when the Elf immediately opened his mouth to protest, the Man added, "And my ribs hurt none at all. Rest did me well."

Studying him with appraising eyes, Legolas nodded after a moment and returned the grin, his shoulders relaxing. "Well, you always have been stubborn," he murmured, fondness in his voice, "therefore I am not surprised." His smile widening, Legolas remarked, "And, anyways, though it may displease the Men, I prefer rain much more than pipe smoke and drunken ramblings."

Aragorn laughed. "Of course you do, Prince Legolas of the _Elves_."

"You annunciate 'Elves'," Legolas remarked, turning a mock curious look on his friend, blue eyes sparkling. "Why is that?"

"Elves are a very prim people," the Man replied, idly tapping his heels against the stone wall as he gazed out over the land. "Smoke, for whatever reason, disgusts them. I speak from experience. Do you remember the first time we camped in a cave? You were near pulling your hair out at camp that night because you could not venture outside because of the weather and I refused to put away my pipe." He chuckled. "You were quite a show. It was perhaps the most angry I've seen you."

"Yes, well, I had reason to be," the Prince huffed, nudging the Man's shoulder with his own. "I could hardly breathe. How you inhale that stuff constantly I shall never know."

"It's relaxing. It soothes."

"So does sleeping. That would have been far less upsetting than your pipe."

"I slept."

"Yes, _after_ you had smoked for an hour."

"It was not that long."

"It felt as such."

"You are insane."

"I would not talk, cliff hazard."

That elicited a light cuff from the Mortal, which Legolas easily ducked, leaping lithely from the stone ledge and taking several steps back. Aragorn turned and glared at him. "I have fallen from cliffs only _three_ times, Elf."

"Four," the Prince corrected with a grin.

"Three," the Man growled. "The time when you _pushed_ me does not count."

"I did not _push_ you over a cliff!"

"Oh, forgive me. I mis-spoke. You _pulled_ me over a cliff, into a pond of freezing water, later claiming that I needed to bathe before I was presented to your father."

"All right, I will give you that," Legolas laughed and Aragorn rolled his eyes, standing to carefully stretch his aching back. "But you _did_ smell and appear as a doormat, so I had clean reason to."

When the Man didn't reply, the Elf turned back to him in confusion, and his face sobered immediately as he watched Aragorn stand close to the wall, gazing at the carnage of fallen Orcs at the foot of it. The Men of Rohan had gathered the beasts up as best as they could. They had yet to burn them, more intent on celebrating their victory. But now, the sight of broken bodies gave Aragorn a feeling of pity as well as pride and brought a sigh from his lips. There was a slight noise beside him, and he felt the familiar presence of his friend as Legolas came up on his side, gaze locked on the mess as well.

"It was a long war," the Elf murmured, and Aragorn had to strain to hear him over the patter of the rain. "One that I feared would never be conquered by the dawn. The fear I felt in moments of that past night..." His voice faltered for a moment and the Man, alarmed at the sudden sorrow cloaking his friend, hesitated briefly before reaching out, his hand seeking out Legolas' until they met. He clasped it, and their fingers wove together instantly. Thus the Prince spoke again. "The fear was something that I have never felt before. I have never seen so many hewn Men; so many hewn _children_. It seemed as though all of my people were gone before the enemy was even beginning to diminish. And when you fell, and I had thought you to be dead..." Legolas fell silent once more and dropped his face, eyes clenched shut tightly and fair features contorting in pain.

"It hurt, Aragorn," he whispered after a moment of still, in which water against stone was the only sound. "It was impossible how much it hurt. I've never felt so alone before, so hopeless. I am a warrior, and I have never feared pain or death, nor war. Yet this one frightened me. I still do not know why..." Sighing, Legolas shook his head and pulled his hand from Aragorn's grasp, shame flushing lightly across his cheeks at his confession.

Aragorn remained silent, waiting. Only when Legolas glanced up and their eyes met again did the Man speak. "Do not feel ashamed to tell me of your fear," he said softly, silver gaze burning with compassion. "I was afraid as well. In many moments, my fear almost overtook me, and it would have fatally ended my life. But I had many reasons to not let that happen - and you were among the most important. And did you let your fear overcome you?"

Legolas' eyes did not waver. "No."

"Nor did I." A smile touched Aragorn's face. "And here we both stand, on the after-eve of war, alive, and-"

"Together," the Prince said softly and the Man paused, surprise blossoming on his face. Legolas smiled at him and squeezed his hand, the doubt and pain having vanished from his countenance to be replaced with affection and joy. "We are alive, and we are together."

Aragorn smiled in return, tilting his head in acknowledgment, silver eyes warm. "Aye, that we are."

Legolas released all of his turmoil in a great gust of breath and let his head fall back, delighting in the feeling of the soft rain. The Man leaned back against the wall and watched him fondly. "And do you know what else we are?" the Elf murmured after a moment.

"What?"

Opening his eyes, Legolas leveled a twinkling gaze on his friend. "Soaking wet."

A laugh broke from Aragorn's lips and he shook his head, moving forward to swing an arm around the Elf's shoulders and lead him back in the direction of the Keep. "Yes, we are that too, and it is all your fault, naive Elf."

Silvery laughter joined the deep tones of the Man. "I will take blame for it. But at least you are clean."

"You know what? Just because you said that, I am going to make sure that _you_ are not!" Releasing his friend, Aragorn stooped, gathered a handful of mud, and flung it at the laughing Prince. Legolas was graced with no time to react and his face was soon covered with the dark substance.

"Estel?" When he finally spoke, his voice was as soft and smooth as silk.

Aragorn straightened and smirked at him. "Yes?"

"You will regret that."

In a split second, a very surprised Man was sprawled backwards in the puddle of mud, and Legolas straddled him, pinning him down. After several moments of shouts and triumphant laughter the Elf Prince stood lithely and began to stalk towards the Keep stairs, leaving his victim on the ground in the middle of the courtyard.

Groaning, Aragorn raised himself from the mud and wiped as much as he could from his face, glaring after his friend's retreating form. "Hurry, Mortal, we do not want the others to begin to worry!" Legolas called merrily back over his shoulder. His retort only served to increase his friend's ire and - as he had suspected - Aragorn soon threw himself at him. The prepared Prince kept them both from falling, yet he did not expect the Man's reaction.

It was Aragorn's turn to laugh as he wrapped Legolas in his arms and made sure to transfer a fair amount of sodden earth to the Elf, who twisted within his hold and desperately tried to free himself. Aragorn merely moved with him. "Let go of me, you fool!" Legolas shouted. In response, the Man tightened his grip and pulled the Prince more firmly against him, a triumphant smirk on his dirtied face. "Aragorn! Release me!"

"No."

After several more minutes of futile struggling, Legolas finally gave up and relaxed in his friend's hold, scowling against the Man's cloak. "You are making me disgustingly filthy," he growled.

"You look beautiful," Aragorn replied with a grin.

"I hate you."

"No, you do not." The Man rolled his eyes, resting his chin on the Prince's shoulder, and Legolas shrugged, finally letting the laughter break from his lips.

"All right, I do not," the Elf murmured. "But I _do_ detest you."

Lightly cuffing his friend, Aragorn pushed him back and smiled at him. "Like you said, I always have been stubborn. And I don't believe a single one of your words."

Legolas smiled in return, his heart far lighter than it had been for quite a while. And there they stood, Elf and Man, in the downpour of rain, on the after-eve night of battle. Together: as it would be throughout all time.

_Ever faithful ever true,  
You, I know, never let go  
In sun and rain,  
In joy and pain,  
You're the same, and...  
You never let go._

**fin.**


End file.
